Distractions
by Retulient
Summary: WxC. Things are heating up between Chris and Wesker when a phone call abruptly interrupts the two. Wesker, as usual, has a mischievous scheme, but will the sharpshooter retaliate? S.T.A.R.S-verse.


**Distractions**

**A/N: Okay! So, more WxC. This time we have a more dominant Chris, sorta, kinda... eh, you'll see. Anyways, I'm leaving this one as uncompleted for now in case I want to add more, especially since this one was so short. Be sure to review, the last ones made me feel like a special snowflake (mainly since I wasn't sure how well it'd be received). Enjoy!**

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Chris moaned out in pleasure as his captain thrust into him from underneath. Long, pale arms snaked up and around the young sharpshooter as smirking lips buried themselves into the crook of his neck. The pointman rocked against the source of the delicious friction, gasping out his superior's name in ghostly breaths. In the midst of this ecstasy, Chris's cellphone began to ring somewhere buried by the sheets of the bed.

He was about to ignore it and allow himself to drown out the loud rings, but his captain cut in. "Christopher," Wesker drawled, voice laced with carnal lust. "It would be quite unprofessional to miss a call for such a _trivial_," the word made the brunet mentally roll his eyes, even as blinded by the steamy situation as he was. "situation as this, especially if it was from a co-worker."

"I-I'll get it later, I'm sure it's just a buddy of mine... or..." Chris stammered out, lifting his head up and closing his eyes. This wouldn't do, apparently, for Wesker withdrew his lips and stopped his movements. The brunet snapped his head back to the blond and glared daggers.

"Fine. Just get out of me so I can grab the phone," the sharpshooter sighed. To his surprise, Wesker already had it in his hand, extending his arm to give it to Chris, but made no movement to pull out of him.

"Answer it," the blond commanded sternly with a hint of mischief in his tone. Furrowing his brow, the brunet flipped open the phone and hit the answer button. Gulping, Chris lifted it up to his ear.

"Uh, h-hello," the sharpshooter rasped. Wesker picked up a faint, gruff voice on the other end of the call. _Barry, _he mused. _This will be interesting. _With that thought, he brought his hand to Chris's semi-hard member, teasingly stroking the shaft with nimble fingers. The brunet gasped abruptly, eyes widely opened. Wesker crooned his neck and began placing little sensual kisses to Chris's shoulder. When he reached the sharpshooter's neck, he bit down sharply, then softly licked the lovebite. Chris made a barely audible whimper in his throat, but Barry picked up on it even through the phone. Wesker could hear a concerned, "_Are you okay?" _from the other end. The brunet made a frantic noise that signified that he was (although Wesker could tell he _obviously_ wasn't). When Chris attempted to put aside his captain's advances and comprehend what Barry was talking to him about, the blond became impatient and began putting another plan into action.

As the brunet was distracted by the conversation with Barry, Wesker took the chance to catch him off-guard. The S.T.A.R.S. Captain shifted his weight on top of the sharpshooter, roughly pinning his head on to the bedsheets. Chris made a loud grunt, but suavely covered it up with a quick and believable, "Oh, fuck. 'Just fell," as he glared up at his now-smirking lover. Without any warning, the blond began wantonly thrusting into Chris, holding his hips for support. The brunet looked as if he were going to explode as he attempted to stifle his moans and continue to talk to Barry as if nothing had happened. Wesker's teeth tugged at the lobe of Chris's ear as he whispered breathy, languid words into his ear. The blond even let out a small moan to guarantee he was truly driving the young brunet crazy. He wanted his undivided attention, wanted all of Chris's thoughts to be about him and not the other man on the line, wanted the sound of his pelvis slapping against his ass to linger and echo through his head. Wesker would do anything to covet the mind and heart of the wild beast beneath him.

With a low growl, the brunet under him spat out a quick and harsh, "I have to call you back," to Barry, slamming the phone shut and finally releasing all the pent up moans with a groan so loud it was almost a scream. Grabbing Wesker's neck, he switched their position so that he was straddling the blond, roughly slamming his captain against the headboard. With a vicious kiss, he bit down onto Wesker's lip. Taken aback by the sudden brutality, but not objecting to it whatsoever, the blond melted into the kiss.

"You cocky, arrogant asshole," Chris spat, drawing apart for a split second before continuing to gnash their teeth together. Running his hands through the combed back, sandy strands of hair, the brunet rocked his hips impatiently. If it were anyone else, this way of behaving and speaking to Wesker would have gotten them killed by now, but this was Chris. _His _Chris. He'd waited for this moment from the start of their relationship. He'd finally cracked the usually submissive exterior of the sharpshooter. He pushed the wild animal to the point of no return, pushed it to a point where titles, professionalism, and truth were all trivial. In a sense, in this moment, the young point man reflected his captain, and this subconscious realization turned the blond on in inexplicable ways. Wesker's hands firmly grasped Chris's ass, burying himself as deep as he could into the brunet. Wesker stared up at his lover with wonder and admiration, letting the sharpshooter do as he pleased with his body, for he deserved it. Chris got off of Wesker and led him towards the wall adjacent to the bed.

The brunet leaned against the wall, pressing his captain against him. Bringing his hand up to Wesker's cheek, he leaned in to whisper into the blonde's ear. "I want you to fuck me against this wall. And hard, _Captain,_" he lingered on the last word, bringing himself eye to eye with the tall blond. Smirking, the blonde picked up Chris's legs, allowing the brunet to wrap his legs around his waist. Teasing the sharpshooter's entrance with his cock, Wesker nipped Chris's lip, which he was rewarded for with a scornful glare from the man clinging onto him. With a hasty jerk of his hips, Chris gave Wesker the message that if he didn't get around to fucking him soon, he'd turn the tables and bury his member into the blonde instead.

Deciding it best not to prod the brunet further, Wesker made no effort to tease Chris anymore and thrust himself fully into him with one swift movement. Chris hissed, partially out of pain and partially out of furious lust.

"What are you waiting for?" Chris groaned, clawing his captain's back. Wesker gave him a look to attempt to put the brunet back in his place just a tad, but it was futile; Chris glared back with just as much supremacy. Actually, it was quite apparent that it only challenged Chris, and he, in this moment, would not lose to any disputer. With as much force as he could muster, the sharpshooter pinned the blonde down on the floor so that he was now straddling him. Wesker just stared up at him, both men searching for each other's reactions and next moves.

Without any warning, Chris began riding Wesker's cock with expert skill. His hips bucked ever so sensually and his expression was so delicious that if Wesker was in any other situation, he would have fucked the dear life out of the boy. Chris's eyes became half lidded, but he kept his defiant gaze on his captain. As if to torture the blonde, Chris started stroking himself and breathing out small, almost inaudible moans. Wesker caught ever detail of the brunet and hoarded every moment of the rare, erotic moment. He couldn't last much longer if the sharpshooter decided to keep up this act. Luckily, Chris seemed to be reaching his limit as well; his movements were more erratic and rushed. The S.T.A.R.S. Captain grasped his point-man's hips with a force that'd likely bruise him. Chris leaned down and braced his arms on either side of the blonde, allowing Wesker to buck into him wantonly. The sharpshooter connected their lips just in time for the two men to both come simultaneously. In that moment, the Chris's arms gave out and he fell on top of Wesker, who was eager to wrap his arms around the younger man.

Realizing the entirety of the recent events, Chris blushed a bright pink. "U-Uh, I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away. Y'know, it's just the heat of the moment... and you can't really control what you do... and yeah..." Chris trailed off, staring awkwardly at the blonde under him.

Wesker merely chuckled lightheartedly and held the sharpshooter closer. "It's quite fine, Christopher," he reassured. "Just don't get too used to it," Wesker added with a tight squeeze of Chris's bare butt.

Chris yelped and started giggling as well, wishing the two could have moments like this for eternity.

A part of him, however, felt that that wouldn't be the case. Couldn't be the case. But there's always hope.


End file.
